


Still No Rest For The Wicked

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Comforting Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, No Wincest, Post-Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Post-Hell Dean Winchester, TW: mentions of non-graphic violence, tw: Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 14:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11693328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean has intense nightmares about his time in Hell, Sam helps him get through them.Some good old Hurt/Comfort, because they went over Dean's time in Hell way too quickly, in my opinion.





	Still No Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Supernatural doesn't belong to me.

When Sam woke up in the middle of the night he was immediately on high alert. He was used to recognizing the smallest noises. As a hunter he couldn’t afford being a deep sleeper. Just a few short moments of feeling disoriented after waking up could very well cost him his life. He squinted, trying to make out any signs of an intruder in the darkness. The brothers always made sure to secure every entrance or window to the shabby motel rooms they stayed in, but still. When you have as many enemies as the Winchesters, there is no such thing as too careful.

With that in mind, Sam quietly got out of bed to turn on the light, when he was stopped in his tracks. A small choking noise cut through the silence. “No, please, no”, someone whimpered weakly. Sam kicked himself for not thinking of that earlier. His brother had been having nightmares for weeks now. The first time Sam woke up from Dean shouting his name he had tried to make him talk about it, but that had only led to a shouting match. In the end, Dean had stomped out of the room and refused to come back in for the rest of the night. Since then they had the unspoken agreement that Sam would pretend not to wake up from his brother’s cries for help and Dean wouldn’t sleep in the car again. The older Winchester was rejecting any help, which put somewhat of a strain on the brothers' relationship. Dean didn’t sleep for more than three hours every night and on the rare occasion that he did finish a full meal, Sam heard him throw up shortly after. But in true Winchester fashion, Dean refused to talk about it and Sam refrained from commenting on the dark circles under his brother's eyes or on how all his jeans seemed to be a bit too loose these days.

“No, not again, please I can’t – Alistair please”, Dean was curled up in a ball, his hands clenched into fists, whimpering softly. “Sam, where are you? Please Sammy, I can’t, not again.” Sam had resigned himself to spending another night listening to his brother’s cries for help, when Dean started repeatedly choking out the same words: "I’m so sorry Sammy, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” When tears started streaming down his face, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. Dean could be yelling at him all he wanted in the morning but he wouldn't continue watching his brother tear himself apart from the inside any longer. He tentatively extended his hand and placed it on Dean’s shoulder, afraid to startle his brother. The trembling figure on the bed didn’t even notice him. Sam gave his brother a little shake but he soon realized that Dean was too far gone to acknowledge him. He sighed. Now there was only one approach left that would wake his brother up for sure. With an apologetic look, he took a bottle of water from the nightstand and poured the contents over Dean’s face, whose eyes flew open in surprise. He sat up, gasping and coughing from the water.

Sam kept his hand on Dean’s shoulder to steady him, he wasn’t sure his brother was fully awake yet. The expression on Dean’s face quickly jumped from confused to utterly panicked while his breathing grew more agitated with every passing second. “Dean? Do you hear me?” Sam asked in a low voice, trying not to startle him. When Dean continued to stare right through him, Sam decided to throw caution to the wind and squeezed his shoulder: "Dean!" Instantly Dean’s eyes snapped on his brother. There was a moment of silence before Dean started falling forward like he didn’t have the strength to sit anymore. Sam was taken by surprise but caught his brother in his arms. Dean fisted his hands into the soft material of Sam's shirt, clinging to him like he was his lifeline. Sam was truly worried now. His brother usually wasn’t a tactile person, everything related to touching or hugging was too much of a “chick-flick-moment”. After a short hesitation, Sam started running his fingers through the short strands of his brother's hair in a calming motion. He still remembered how Dean always used to do that, when he was little and needed comforting. The man in his arms shuddered even harder and finally began sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. Sam’s heart broke upon hearing the sounds of sheer despair coming from his brother. “It’s okay, I’m here now, you are okay. Come on, take a deep breath. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Sam began talking in what he hoped was a soothing voice. He didn’t have a lot of experience in comforting people, especially not his brother. Dean usually drowned whatever feelings he had in alcohol and buried the rest as deep as he could. With drunk-Dean, he knew how to deal (leave alone, bring water, don't make loud noises if you want to live). But crying-Dean was completely new to him. 

“Come on, deep breaths. I’m here, you’re okay.” Ever so slowly the heart-wrenching sobs became more subdued. “That’s good, you’re doing great. Just keep breathing.” Sam could feel the tears soaking his shirt but he didn’t care. Right now all that mattered to him was making sure Dean would be okay.

Sam kept his arms around his brother to assure him he was still there. When his breathing finally evened out he cautiously asked: “Can you tell me what happened? What did you see?” Sam could instantly feel Dean’s breath quicken against his neck. “Sammy, it was too real, I can’t –“, he choked out. “Dean, this is eating you up. You don’t sleep – no don’t try interrupting me, you know I’m right – you have nightmares every night and do you honestly think I don’t see that you’ve lost weight? You flinch every time someone makes a loud noise or touches you. Something is eating you up and I want to help you, but you’ve got to help me here.” 

He tried to look at his brother but Dean stubbornly refused to let go of Sam’s shirt and pressed his face into his shoulder. Sam took a deep breath. Dean was one of the most hard-headed people he ever met. Sam was about to resign and accept that his brother wouldn’t talk when he heard a barely audible voice.

“Alistair, he was my, well, you could say prison guard, I guess. I was his responsibility and he could do-“, Dean took a shaky breath as tears were clogging his throat again, “-he could do whatever he wanted to me. And you know how many enemies I have down there, Sammy. He invited everyone to – participate”. It took Sam a few moments to realize Dean was talking about his time in hell. He decided to stay quiet, giving his brother the chance to get it all out. He never stopped running his hand down Dean’s back to reassure him that he was still listening, still there. “He tortured me. I thought I knew what pain was, but Sammy, I didn’t. And it never stopped. I wanted to be brave, I promised myself I wouldn't give him the satisfaction to scream. But, I couldn't do it, I wasn't strong enough." 

Sam wanted to protest, after all, Dean was the strongest person he knew, but he stayed silent, too afraid his brother would stop talking again. “He started with the normal stuff, but then he-“ he paused, tightening his grip on Sam's shirt, "he tore me apart, he burned me, and I was so weak, I wanted to die. But I couldn't because you can’t die when you're already in hell, can you?”, Dean gave a humorless chuckle. “All he did was piece me back together and then it started all over again. And time passes so slow down there, Sammy. Every minute is like years. Then he started switching faces. He-", Dean pressed his face into Sam's shoulder, "Sammy, he used your face and told me all these things. That you don’t love me, you always wanted to get away from this life, from dad, from me. And it’s not like I didn’t know it but he repeated it over and over again.” 

Dean rushed the words out, trying to get it over with as fast as he could. “He used Dad’s face and told me how much of a disappointment I was to him. That nobody wants me, that the world is better off without me. That dad only saw me as his brave little soldier, but never as his son. Alistair did things to me I didn’t know a person could survive. And when he was finished all his friends came and continued where he stopped. When he got bored with that he-” Dean had started shaking like a leaf again, clenching fistfuls of Sam’s shirt in his hands, “-he made me torture others. Sammy, I have so much blood on my hands. And I liked it. I liked not being the one getting torn apart, do you understand? I was so weak, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I can hear them, you know? Every night when I close my eyes I can hear them screaming, begging me to stop.” Dean trailed off, he couldn’t get any more words out.

Sam didn’t know what to say. Tears were clogging his throat when he finally managed to talk. “Dean, I don’t- I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through and to make it out without going insane, that’s incredible. I am so sorry you had to go through all this alone. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, I-” Dean interrupted him, his voice breaking: “You don’t have to be nice, you know? I’d understand if you hate me now, I’m damaged, I did things no one should even think of. If you want to go, I can understand. You always wanted to go to college and get away from here. Now you don’t even have to feel obligated to stay here with me, I’m a monster.” “No, no, no, Dean, that’s not true. Yes, I left you in the past, but I never wanted to get away from you. I ran away from dad and from this life. I wanted nothing more than for you to come with me but I knew you wouldn’t be happy. You are made for this life. But Dean, you have to believe me, you are not a disappointment. At least not to me. You raised me, you did way more for me than dad ever did, I need you. I’m not ten years old anymore and I can cook my own dinner now, but I still need you, you’re my brother and you are all I have left. Maybe you are damaged and have blood on your hands, but Dean, me too. And we’re all we have left. You’re my brother and nothing is ever going to change that.” At this point, Sam had to take a deep calming breath to clear his throat. When he felt hot tears on the side of his neck again, Sam helplessly wondered how much a single person could cry. He hated to see his brother so broken and hurt.

Eventually, Sam started to move. He began to loosen Dean’s hands from his shirt, but the moment he got up, Dean whimpered like a wounded animal. Sam never heard his brother sound so distressed. “No please, Sammy, don’t go, I need you, I’m sorry, I know I’m damaged but please, please don’t go”, he pleaded, eyes glassy with panic. “Hey, hey, calm down, I’m not going anywhere. I’m only trying to find a more comfortable position. You should try to get some sleep, it’s still the middle of the night.” He gently pushed Dean down until he finally gave in and laid down on the mattress, only to immediately curl up in a ball, like he was afraid of someone hurting him. Sam couldn’t even think of what they must have done to his usually fearless brother to make him so scared of the world. After picking up the covers he stood by the side of Dean’s bed for a moment. He felt oddly protective of his older brother, who looked much more like a frightened child than like a tough hunter, with the tear tracks still visible on his cheeks.

Sam was so deep in thought that he nearly missed what Dean was saying: “-stay? Of course, you don’t have to, but I just thought – you know what, forget it, it's stupid, I’m-“, Dean was stumbling over the words when Sam interrupted him: “Calm down, of course, I'll stay. Scoot over." He sat down on the side of Dean’s bed again, toed off his shoes and put his legs up on the bed. Sam leaned against the headboard and made himself comfortable. Apart from Dean’s calm breathing and the occasional snuffling sound he made, it was silent in the room. After a few minutes, Sam was relieved to see that his brother was fast asleep. And when Dean unconsciously inched closer to him until he could finally burrow his face in Sam’s side like a child looking for comfort, the younger Winchester just sighed, put his hand on his brother’s side and fell asleep too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, please let me know what you think in the comments!  
> This is my first work and I'm not a native speaker so feel free to point out any mistakes.  
> Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!


End file.
